The morning air was calm, faintly carrying the scent of tea and baked bread. Ren stood by the kitchen entrance, watching the maids arrange the trays. His eyes still burned slightly, but after applying so ice, the swelling had gone down.
"Add that stew," he said quietly, glancing at the list. "The General likes it."
The maids exchanged glances. It wasn’t on the nu. Still, none of them questioned him and hurried to do as he said.
Ren followed them to the dining hall and stood behind the chair, waiting for Zayden and Eiran to arrive. He had thought of bringing the child himself but decided it was ti to give him a little space. After all, he was already six years old, even if he looked older.
When the General entered, Ren pulled out a chair for him while another servant helped Eiran who walked behind him like a shadow. The two sat in their respective seats.
"Papa! Why are you standing there? Co eat with us!" Eiran frowned once he noticed his father didn’t seem to have any intention of joining them for breakfast. Usually, though hesitant, he would still take a seat—but today, that wasn’t the case.
Ren quietly pulled the chair, sinking into it. His gaze darted everywhere, as if searching for a place to hide. Sothing changed within him but he didn’t know what. And he knew Zayden’s gaze, sharp as it was, might succeed in revealing it before he could analyze it by himself.
The servants looked at each other, confused. Was this man a servant or not? He behaved like one yet the General and his son treated him like family.
As he reached for the bread, the familiar aroma made Zayden pause. His hand stilled midway, eyes narrowing at the dish before him. He took a bite, his expression unreadable.
"Who told you to prepare this?" he asked, glancing at the servants.
"Uhm... Your attendant said so," one of the maids replied.
Zayden didn’t say anything nor did he look his way. The corner of his mouth twitched briefly before he resud eating in silence.
Was it a coincidence—or had Ren noticed? Ren, paying attention to him? That was sothing he never imagined.
"You rembered what I like to eat," Zayden said after a mont, his voice calm but carrying an odd warmth. "I didn’t think you paid attention to that..."
Ren didn’t look up, chewing on the bread in his mouth. Once he swallowed it, his gaze flickered upward.
"Thank you, My Lord."
"For what?"
The servant’s mouth parted but he couldn’t think what to say. He looked at Eiran, eating with a bright and peaceful expression on his face.
"For not getting mad at and everything I have done so far."
Zayden chuckled softly.
"A thank-you, huh? That’s new."
A small grin ford on Ren’s lips. Perhaps he could beco this man’s friend. Perhaps, he could trust him. Confide in him. Tell him about the Temple’s dark truth. But he held back, his grip tightening around his fork.
Patience. He forgave you for hiding a mate, a child. But would he forgive you for hiding your origins?
A quiet, dry laugh escaped him. The dark thoughts had returned just when he thought it was over.
Silence settled between them again, but it wasn’t as heavy as before. Even Eiran, quietly chewing beside them, sensed the shift in the air, grinning. Finally, his fathers appeared less like strangers now!
***
Their footsteps echoed through the marble hallways. The morning light seeped through the tall glass windows, glimring against the floor like ripples of gold.
Zayden walked ahead with his usual asured stride, hands clasped behind his back. Ren followed a few paces behind—silent, eyes lowered, the faint scent of soap still clinging to his sleeves after a quick shower. Even if the General knew his second gender, he still didn’t want anyone to sll his pheromones.
He didn’t expect anything unusual. But as they turned the corner, a group of white robed figures ca into view—priests, their silver-stitched hems trailing against the floor.
And at their center walked him—the High Priest X of Hianshu—Charles.
Ren’s breath caught. The sound of the staff’s chi, that faint, crystalline ring, was enough to make his whole body seize.
The world tilted. His pulse quickened, almost echoing in his ears.
He could still hear it—the echo of the sa bell that used to mark punishnt hours at the temple.
"Kneel. A weapon that questions has no right to exist."
Blood.
Lights.
The reek of incense and iron.
"Ren?"
Zayden’s voice was distant, swallowed by the thundering of his heartbeat. His knees weakened. The corridor spun. He wanted to turn, walk away—escape. Again.
While talking to Zayden, the High Priest paused, his sharp eyes falling upon the trembling figure. For a brief mont, his lips curled—not in recognition, but noticing the similarity he shared with an old colleague.
"How peculiar," he murmured, tilting his head. "To think there could be such a resemblance..." He rubbed his chin with his thumb.
Despite trying to keep his composure, Ren flinched, his breathing erratic. Pheromones burst from him like a wave—wild and uncontrolled, the scent thick, filling the hallways. It flooded the air before he could stop it.
The guards turned instantly, their hands flying to their noses. Zayden’s expression hardened, a frown on his face.
What was wrong with him?
In two strides, Zayden was beside Ren, his hand gripping his shoulder—firm, grounding, protective.
"That’s enough," Zayden said sharply, his tone a command. But not directed at Ren—directed at the High Priest who had been gazing at Ren for too long.
And what nonsense was he spouting? Ren resembled soone he knew? How could it be? Ren never went to Hianshu!
The High Priest smiled faintly.
"My apologies, General. It seems your servant is... sensitive."
Zayden didn’t blink. He needed to bring Ren sowhere enclosed as soon as possible.
"Leave."
After a brief silence, the Priest inclined his head, amusent flickering across his gaze before he finally walked past.
He took a sniff of Ren’s pheromones, his chuckle echoing through the hallway. The sound of his footsteps along with his disciples faded into the distance.
Only then did Ren’s legs give out. He stumbled forward, breath trembling, eyes wide and unfocused. Zayden caught him just before he hit the floor.
"Ren, look at ."
Ren’s fingers curled around Zayden’s sleeve, his voice breaking into a whisper.
"H-Help ," he managed, his voice cracking.
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